


All Bones and Sharp Angles

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, F/M, Humanstuck, Sex, for now at least
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-03-30 01:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3917320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Terezi?” You don't believe that you're seeing her in person for the first time in six years and she looks amazing. She grins, shark-like with stretched lips and sharp teeth. </p><p>“You fucking know it.” She's as loud as you remember. “Now are you going to invite me inside, or am I going to have to find a hotel to crash at?” It's then that you notice the suitcase perched right next to her feet.</p><p>***</p><p>Karkat Vantas is living a relatively comfortable life. He has a stable job and a few friends, and he hooks up with a new pretty girl every so often. It's fine. He's not truly happy, but everything is okay.</p><p>Then Terezi happens, and suddenly things don't seem as okay as he thought they were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Honestly, I don't understand your blatant opposition towards marriage. If you love this girl, why wouldn't you chose to commit to her permanently? Not that it matters whether your married by the law's eyes, once a man lies with a woman -or another man, or really if two women lie together, that's perfectly acceptable as well- they're married in the lord's eyes.” You groan, because you're brother has once again successfully managed to involve some aspect of the Bible into your conversation. He pauses to sip his tea thoughtfully, giving the waitress time to bring your orders. Your currently seated in a Jewish deli only a block away from Powell bookstore, having met your insufferable prick of a brother for lunch. It's a tradition of yours to meet for a meal or coffee at least once a month and talk about your lives, not that they ever change. “However, this is the fifth girl you've fallen in love with in the past seven months, and I'm beginning to question how easily you really can fall in love. Not that I'm trying to be insensitive to your blatant family issues, or your obvious jealousy of how much more affection I got than you did by both of our parents. Nor am I trying to call attention to the obvious fact that you're trying to compensate your feelings of abandonment with how much your rushing into relationships. All I want to know is _why?_ ”

 

You don't know where he got the idea that you're falling in love with all these girls. You have a past of hooking up with girls and never talking to them again, which Kankri has obviously misinterpreted into falling in love quickly with multiple different women, just because you're slept with them. Hell, you don't even remember the last time you had and _actual_ relationship, which you're pretty sure that, at twenty-four, you're still far too immature for. Not that your brother would even understand. All you can do is explain that you're not _in love._

 

“Believe it or not, you can actually sleep with someone without being in love with them.” You refrain from adding that you've slept with _a lot_ more than five girls in the past seven months, because you know it'll lead to either a long winded lecture or him having a heart attack right at the table. God, you need a fucking drink.

 

Kankri cocks his head to the side, taking a bite of his sandwich and chewing it agonizingly slow. He barely gives himself enough time to swallow before he starts talking again. “I fail to understand. How can you feel sexual attraction toward someone you don't already have a bond with? Are you partaking in... hook up culture? If so, I don't see why women would want to sleep with you without establishing some sort of relationship, seeing as you're neither conventionally attractive or particularly charming.” You tune him out as you finally begin to eat your meal. You wish it had come with a shot of whiskey. Or eight. You don't know how you ever dealt with Kankri before you discovered alcohol.

 

Besides him being a complete asshole, you think he might have a point. You're not attractive, or charming. When you're drunk enough, you have an air of cockiness that's not usually there, but it's not particularly endearing to either yourself or the heavy majority of self-respecting women. You go too long without saying anything before you realize that Kankri's stopped talking and you have no idea what he said. “Other than shitting all over my self esteem, did you have a point?” You snap at him. You don't know whether keeping him talking for a long time is a good thing or a bad thing, but for now, you're going to pretend it's your best option. At least you can just tune him out.

 

“Not really. I believe I've said everything I needed to say.”

 

“And then some.” You mutter, which he thankfully doesn't hear. You finish your lunch and split the bill before departing. He tells you it's your turn to pick the restaurant for next time and you say you probably won't think about it until the night before. He gives you a disapproving look before heading off to his car. You thank the lord that he's gone. There's only so much Kankri you can take.

 

You walk home because your apartment is only a few blocks away. It's a nice day, warm and sunny with only a few puffy white clouds in the sky. There's a gentle breeze rolling in and the city traffic is surprisingly calming you. You've been living here for so long that you don't even notice the noise anymore. You know it's going to rain soon. You don't get days like this very often, and when you do, they don't last long. You wish it would rain, because seeing the sky practically cloudless and the sun out for so long is unsettling. You don't think Portland has ever gone this long without rain a day in your life.

 

You pass the hentai theater on your right, once again baffled by the fact that people actually go inside it. You don't understand why grown-ass adults would watch anime porn with other grown-ass adults they don't know in the exact same room. You pause, because you can see the line for VooDoo Doughnuts from where you're standing and you're a little tempted to get in it. Not so much because you want a doughnut, you think most of their flavors are fucking nasty, but because you know Kanaya's working her shift right now and you haven't talked to her in a few weeks. You decide against it, however, because you know better than to bother her at work and you already have plans to get coffee with her next Saturday.

 

You take a nap when you get home, feeling more drained than you have in a long time. Being around your brother is tiring, and even though he's family and you love him, you really can't stand him. You don't wake up until you hear a knock on your door. At first, you assume it's either a teenage neighbor asking for condoms (You're notorious for selling condoms to the teenagers in your apartment building who have ridiculously nosy or overprotective parents. You like to think you're promoting safe sex, but really you just like sticking it to middle age soccer moms who think they can control their kids lives. Your biggest customer is, ironically enough, a sixteen year old girl name Chastity.) or your landlord. But when you open your door, it's neither of those two, but rather someone you haven't seen since high school.

 

She's all wicked grins and sharp angles, like she was way back when, except she's definitely grow. In high school, she was long and bony, with hipbones that stuck out past her stomach and biceps that weren't much bigger than her wrists. Her legs were long and thin and skin stretched thinly over her ribs, making her look almost dead. Her skin was almost translucent and her hair was such a light blonde that it looked white. She wasn't even close the the picture of health. But now...

 

The first thing you notice about her is her curves. She's still skinny, but she's not _bony_. She's not particularly flat chested anymore, her breasts as little, perky swells, that actually pretty decently sized. Her hips flare out from her slim waist and her thighs and arms look so much more toned. Her hipbones aren't nearly as prominent as they used to be and you can't see her ribs through her shirt, so you think her stomach is properly proportioned now. Her hair is no longer blonde, but rather a rich auburn that must have come from a bottle. The ends are dyed a rich , regal purple. She's wearing painfully tight skinny jeans with holes in the knees that you think are there strictly for fashion purposes and a blue floral top that shows the smallest sliver of her midsection. The only noticeably new feature about her face are the pair of red-tinted sunglasses balanced on her nose.

 

“Terezi?” You don't believe that you're seeing her in person for the first time in six years and she looks _amazing_. She grins, shark-like with stretched lips and sharp teeth.

 

“You fucking know it.” She's as loud as you remember. “Now are you going to invite me inside, or am I going to have to find a hotel to crash at?” It's then that you notice the suitcase perched right next to her feet.

 

You let her come inside, mostly because you're still in a state of shock, but also because you don't have the heart to turn her away. She was one of your best friends for just about four years. “Sorry about the mess.” You mutter. You hadn't bothered to clean up any of your anything, considering you hadn't been expecting company.

 

“It's cool, I can't even see it anyway.”

 

“Wait, what?” You're confused, because as far as you're concerned, she had never had vision problems. But when you turn to look at her, her glasses are off and her smile is wide. Instead of her eyes, her eye sockets are filled with milky white glass orbs. Your own eyes widen.

 

“When the fuck did that happen?” She laughs, which is the same loud bark of laughter that it's always been, and in some weird way, it's comforting.

 

“That's a story for another time. I have plenty more stories to tell right now. Shit that isn't that deep or pitiful. Hell, I've been succeeding left and right since I lost my eyes. It's like all sight was doing was holding me back.” She's loud and fast when she talks and you have a hard time keeping up with everything she's saying.

 

“So just a refresher, since you might have forgotten about me in the six years I've been gone; I went to study business at UCLA, which was actually pretty cool, believe it or not. You wouldn't _believe_ how many hot the girls are in California. I got so much good pussy,” You let out a small laugh, remembering how few filters Terezi actually has. You remember her mutual attraction towards girls, guys, and pretty much everything in between, and you remember how often she would comment on the attractiveness of other girls. “But after like, four years of that shit and a bachelors degree, I said 'fuck it' and applied to Harvard law. I had a 4.0 and I thought that since I was a queer, blind girl I'd have a better shot of getting in. Well, I didn't make it into Harvard, but I did get into Boston University, so I flew my ass across the country to Massachusetts and _damn_ was it a hell of a nice place. There weren't as many hot girls, but I did have a boyfriend for a while. We broke up last year. Anyway, long story short, I'm a lawyer right now.”

 

She pauses, allowing you time to take it all in. A lawyer. Terezi Pyrope is a lawyer. You suppose you had always known she would be one day, but you never thought it would happen this quickly. You still think of her as a fourteen year old girl, all bones and jokes and shark-like smiles.

 

“Anyway, I got this offer at a law office I had been an intern at, but I turned it down. If I took a job there, I'd be stuck in Boston forever and it just wasn't my kind of place. I liked studying there, but-” She pauses, running her hands along your wall and bumping into the couch in your sitting area. “Hey, do you mind if I sit down?” You tell her to go for it and ask her if she wants anything. She says green tea if you have it and water if you don't. You put a kettle on your stove for her tea.

 

When you come out of the kitchen, she's sitting on your couch, digging through her suitcase. As soon as you step foot back into the sitting area she starts talking again. “I wanted to move back home and find a law office somewhere around here. It probably won't take long, but until then, I'm unemployed and I don't have any money, so I need a place to stay. I looked you up. I would've stayed with Vriska, but I don't think I need that much toxin in my life again. She's got nice tits, but that's about all that's going for her.” You actually do laugh, an honest to God bark of laughter that she almost mimics her insane cackles.

 

She doesn't speak for a while, so you take it as your cue to start talking about your life. You don't have as much to say as she did, but you manage to talk about the little details that you feel comfortable sharing. You make sure not to mention your random hook ups.

 

“I'm actually a high school English teacher.” You start. She looks intrigued, so you continue. “I guess it's not really my passion or whatever, but I've always been kind of interested in teaching, so I figured that high school students could handle my temper and nasty swearing habits better than elementary school students. English seemed like a better choice than math or science, and history can go fuck itself.” The tea kettle whistles and you get up to turn the stove off. Terezi follows. You as her if she wants sugar in her tea and she declines.

 

“I forgot to ask if you have a guest room.” You don't. Your apartment does happen to have a second bedroom, but you use it as an office to grade papers and make lesson plans. There's no bed, just a desk, a swivel chair, and a computer.

 

“No, most of my guests just sleep in my bed.” As soon as you say it, you regret it. Terezi grins as wide as ever, but this time it has a mischievous undertone. You remember that smile, and it's not one you want to be seeing right now.

 

“Oh?” She sounds much more amused than you think she should be and you can feel your cheeks heating up. “Has little Karkat Vantas _finally_ lost his virginity? Is little virgin Karkat actually hooking up with _multiple_ girls?”

 

“Shut the fuck up. I just happen to-” You're cut off by a sharp knock on your door and you wonder who the actual hell it could be. Terezi follows you too the door, seeming just as curious as you are. When you open the door, it's Chastity, blonde and tall and just as nervous as she always is. She glances at Terezi before quickly looking back down at her feet. “Um, hey Mr. Vantas, I was just wondering-”

 

“Condoms?” You ask. She nods weakly and you try to ignore Terezi's condescending smile. You beckon her inside and tell her to wait in the living room. Terezi follows you back to your bedroom.

 

“You sell condoms to teenagers?”

 

“Not usually, it's just that Chastity is one of my students-”

 

“You sell condoms to your _students_?” You let out an exaggerated sigh.

 

“Look, she's a good kid and I'm not having her getting pregnant or contracting an STD or something and if I'm the easiest resource to getting some fucking condoms, than I'm going to give her those fucking condoms. It's not like I'm doing anything illegal.” She hums, making you think that maybe you _are_ doing something illegal, and she's just not telling you. When you give Chastity her condoms, she thanks you and asks if Terezi is your girlfriend. You open your mouth to say no, when she cuts you off.

 

“You fucking know it.” She says, wrapping her arm around your waist. You flinch at her touch. “And you're Karkat's student?” Chastity nods, her awkwardness seeming to fade ever so slightly.

 

“Um, yeah. I'm in AP Literature. I like it. I kind of want to be a writer, but I don't think that'll happen.” She looks up at you expectantly, hoping you'll say something to lift her spirits. You want to, but you're not particularly got at that sort of stuff.

 

“You're a good writer.” You say, which is a relatively mediocre reply, but she looks pleased with herself, so you figure that it was a sufficient enough response. She stays for about half an hour, talking with Terezi about colleges and boys and school, which annoys the absolute shit out of you. Finally, Terezi asks the inevitable question.

 

“So, why do you get your condoms from Karkat instead of just going to a drugstore or something?” Chastity's smile fades and she shifts uncomfortably.

 

“Oh, well, my mom always checks my bags when I get home from shopping and she'd probably freak out if she saw I bought condoms, so I just tell her I'm getting help with homework every time I need to buy them. I know it's super dishonest, but there's no other way for me to get them.” Terezi glances at you, because she knows for a fact that your dad was the exact same way. You can feel your cheeks turning red and Chastity, clearly sensing the awkwardness of the situation, tells you she has to get going. Neither of you protest.

 

When she leaves, Terezi immediately starts talking. “She seemed nice enough. Her mom can go fuck herself though.” You agree. It's bad enough that you live right across the hall from her, but she also schedules a parent-teacher conference every quarter, just to make sure her daughter isn't misbehaving in class.

 

“Her dad's a preacher.” You start and Terezi already looks sickened. “Her mom's a Bible hugger. She's literally worse than Kankri.” You don't really want to talk about your sixteen year old student and her fuck up of a family anymore. What you really want to do is get drunk off your ass and fuck a pretty girl.

 

“By the way,” Terezi starts, also clearly ready to change the subject. “There's one more reason I decided to stay with you instead of Vriska,” You quirk and eyebrow. You realize, for the first time since Chastity left, that Terezi's arm is still around you. She grins at you again, but this time there's nervousness behind it that you've never seen before. It's weird for you to see Terezi Pyrope nervous about anything. “I never really came clean about why I gave you so much shit in high school, and this is seriously the most cliché thing ever, but hear me out.” Oh shit. You know what she's going to say. Holy fucking shit. “It's that I always sort of had this feeling about you. Like, even when I was dating Dave, or Vriska, or even during that shitty excuse of a relationship I had with Gamzee, I just always thought of you and... Oh my God, I can't believe I'm admitting this.” You feel your chest swell up with pride because Terezi Pyrope had a fucking crush on you all through out high school, and that could not feel better.

 

“Okay here it is; I always thought,” She pauses, either for dramatic effect, or our of nervousness. “That you were a huge fucking nerd.” You face falls and she laughs like the insane bitch she is. “Also, I always did, and still do, want to suck you off.”

 

You face flushes. She's fucking with you, you're sure. Why else would she say that? There's no way she's not fucking with you. She laughs, probably at how red your face is.

 

“I'm not fucking with you. Seriously, if you're into it, I'll blow you right now.”

 

You're so terrified she'll change her mind that you rush out your response. “Yeah, s-sure.” Did you just fucking stutter? God, you're so pathetic. You don't get why it's so easy for you to fuck girls you don't know, but you're an awkward, jittery mess when it comes to Terezi Pyrope. Maybe because you actually have feelings for her that you've been suppressing since Freshman year, and you were just reminded of when she showed up unannounced, more gorgeous and sharp than ever. You're such a fucking mess. She breaks out into a wide grin, toothy and dangerous. She makes a point to tie her hair back and she asks you if you have flavored condoms.

 

“I don't like the regular ones, and with you and all your hook-ups, I don't wanna get herpes in my mouth.” She explains, and you protest that you don't have herpes, or any STD. You're tested regularly. She waves off your comment and asks if you have flavored condoms once again. You probably do somewhere.

 

You lead her into your room, waiting for her to say it's all one elaborate joke and that she's so _obviously_ fucking with you, but it doesn't happen. You shuffle through your bedside table, looking for flavored condoms. As luck would have it, you do, and they're not expired.

 

“Do you have cherry?” You didn't even realize anyone made cherry flavored condoms and you wonder if this'll be a deal breaker.

 

“I have strawberry.” She shrugs and says that's fine. When she kisses you, you feel fireworks go off. Her lips are soft and taste like candy. She softly bites on your bottom lip and tugs, pulling you towards her. You run your tongue over her bottom lip and she gladly opens her mouth. Your tongues slide together, creating a rhythm that you don't think has ever been this perfect. You sit on the edge of your bed and she pulls herself into your lap, straddling your waist. She grinds her hips against you, making your groan. You can feel your bulge pushing against your jeans, practically begging to be released. You don't think you've ever gotten hard this fast _but holy shit_ is Terezi Pyrope already proving to be a fantastic lover.

 

She kisses down your neck, reaching your collar bone, her breath hot, and yet you're shivering. You wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her closer and pressing her body against yours. You buck your hips up to meet yours and she squeaks. You smirk, feeling cocky. Her hands go to the button on your jeans, popping it open and releasing some of the strain on your bulge. She palms it a little and you let out a moan.

 

“Will you stand up? It's easier if you're standing.” She says and slips off your lap. You quickly stand, and she gets on her knees on the floor in front of you. You have a moment of panic, praying to God that she won't burst out laughing and admit that she was fucking with you the entire time. But she tugs your underwear down, releasing all strain on your dick and she gently slides the condom on your length.

 

“I have a sensitive gag reflex, so try not to buck your hips too much, okay?” You nod. You can sympathize with her. You went through a faze in college where you would only fuck guys. You learned that not only are you completely heterosexual, but also that you too have a ridiculously sensitive gag reflex.

 

She kisses up your length, teasing you and making you shudder. She takes the head of your dick in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip. You moan and thread your fingers in her hair. She takes more of you in her mouth, her tongue sliding along your length. You try not to buck your hips too much, which is difficult as fuck. She bobs her head and sucks the tip, her lips red and kiss-swollen. You feel yourself slip under a haze of ecstasy and when you come, you call her name.

 

When you finish, she's grinning at you. You take the condom off and throw it away. It's completely and utterly useless now. She stands and stretches, taking her hair out of the ponytail. “Well, now I'm all worked up.” You can't take your eyes off her and for the second time today, you allow yourself to notice how gorgeous she is. “Do you think you could return the favor?” She makes a point to wiggle her eyebrows and your breath catches in your throat. Her grin is more suggestive than anything and you really want to say _hell fucking yes_. But instead, you just mutter a sure and watch as her grin grows wider.

 

“Wow, calm down, no need be so enthusiastic.” Her tone is practically dripping with sarcasm. You roll your eyes. You wrap one arm around her waist, pressing her body against yours, your mouth attacking her neck with sloppy kisses and playful bites. She lets out a breathy laugh and you smirk against her skin. You unbutton her pants and try to tug them off, but they're so damn tight that you can't seem to tug them past her hips. You places her hands on top of yours, steadying you. She takes a step away from you and shimmys her way out of them, leaving herself clad in her shirt and a pair of red lacy panties. She slips them off and sits on the edge of your bed, spreading her legs. You kneel down in front of her and your mind go a thousand miles a second.You're thinking everything at once and your heartbeat pounds in your chest. You're really going to do this.

 

You use your fingers first, toying with her and making her let out little moans and whimpers of approval. She's practically dripping wet. You press your tongue to her, tasting her juices. She's sweet and salty at the same time and it's actually not that bad. You circle your tongue around her clit, making her gasp and squirm. You use two of your fingers to gently penetrate her entrance as your tongue glides just on the outside of her. She wraps her legs around your shoulders, keeping you in place and grinds against your face. Her moans are loud and satisfying and when you think you've spent enough time teasing her, you allow your tongue to penetrate her entrance. She screams and shudders and you pray to _God_ that none of your neighbors think you're trying to kill her. Her muscles clench and spasm as she screams your name and it's the most satisfying thing in the world.

 

At this point, you're half-hard again and you wonder if she'll let you fuck her. When she comes down from her high, her grin is as wide as ever. Her eyes, though white and glossy and not at all real, are lit up like the sky. Stands, pressing herself against you again. “Who knew little virgin Karkat could be so good at giving oral?” You roll your eyes.

 

“Fuck you, I'm great at sex.”

 

“Prove it.”

 

It's the most cliché phrased used to evoke sexual tension, and you fall right into its trap. You pull her into a rough kiss, biting on her bottom lip and tugging, pulling her closer to you. There's still a slightest hint of candy flavored lip gloss on her kiss swollen lips. She squeals with delight when you push her on the bed. You remove your clothes and crawl on top of her. You kiss down her neck, stopping every once in a while to nip at her skin.

 

She screams when you collide and you try to be as gentle with her as possible. But she tells you to go faster, deeper, harder, and the two of you roll together as you thrust into her. Inside, she's unbelievably plush and warm and you can feel her pulse flutter around you. She lets out loud moans that only spur you on more. Her body is slick with sweat and her face is flushed red. You change angles ever so slightly and she gasps and tells you to do that again, for the love of God, _do it again_.

 

You try to kiss her, but you miss and hit her neck instead. You scrape your teeth against her neck and listen as she screams out your name. You can hear your bed frame hitting the wall and you feel _so_ bad for your neighbors. You've gotten noise complaints from girls significantly less noisy than Terezi. You give one more thrust before she gasps and her muscles spasm and tighten around you. You give another thrust before you realize that _shit_ , you're about to climax as well.

 

You pull out of her and spill out on the sheets next to her. She puts her underwear back on and pulls on your T-shirt. You don't bother getting dressed again. She curls on her side and you wrap your arms around her, spooning her. She's close and she's warm and you're perfectly content to fall asleep just like this.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

It was never officially said that the two of you were dating, but at some point you had just started to assume. When you woke up that Monday morning after, she was still curled in you arms. It was nearly six AM when your alarm clock went off. She groaned at you. You had kissed the back of her neck and told her that you had to go into work at seven. Your classes start at seven thirty. She grumbled about how early your teacher schedule was and proceeded to go back to sleep.

 

You don't know why, but you had assumed she would go job searching while you we teaching. You were, of course, wrong. She had spent that day rummaging through your drawers and making as much of a mess as she possibly could. When you yelled at her, she laughed and gave you a firm kiss that made you turn a dark shade of scarlet. She then announced that she wanted Chinese food for dinner and you didn't complain. You didn't have a burning desire to cook anything anyway.

 

That Tuesday, your day didn't go very differently. She had decided to do something impulsive when you came home from work and you didn't know what it was until she came back at midnight. There wasn't anything noticeably different about her at first. She still had the same wicked grin and the same sharp angles. But she told you to strip her down and when you protested, saying that not only was it midnight and you had to teach tomorrow, but you were also exhausted from all the shit both she and your students had put you through, she told you to stop whining and that it wasn't about sex. You finally gave into her demands, mostly out of curiosity. You began pulling off her cloths, her shirt almost too tight to get over her head without ripping, and her skirt too short to be hiding anything important anyway. As soon as you managed to wrestle with her shirt enough to get it over her head, she turned her back to you and you saw the brand new tattoo on her lower back. There, in script lettering with dark red ink, was that stupid fucking phrase you used to say all the time, way back when you were only fourteen.

 

_'Fuckass'_

 

You dragged a hand down your face and asked her why the actual hell she would get that tattoo. She laughed, like she always did when you criticized her, and told you that she wanted to do something impulsive. She then explained that she's never getting her sight back anyway, so who cares if she likes it or not. She won't ever have to look at it again. This just confuses you more, considering that it's pretty fucking pointless to get a tattoo she can't even see. She, however, doesn't listen to your reasoning.

 

Wednesday wasn't anything special. Chastity came over for more condoms. You gave her a full box and she thanked you profusely. Terezi laughed. You elbowed her in the ribs.

 

Thursday ended in sex. Friday wasn't any different.

 

When you wake up on Saturday morning, it's on your own terms. It's still just after six o'clock and Terezi is still sleeping soundly. She's tucked away in your arms, curled on her side, warm and peaceful. You've scheduled to meet Kanaya for coffee in two hours, before her shift starts. You attempt to get out of bed, making Terezi stir. She complains at you to keep holding her and you complain back that it doesn't matter if she's sleeping anyway.

 

“Ugh, just hold me, idiot! It's not like I'm going to bite you.” You roll your eyes and grumble about how stupid she is and she tells you that she can hear you.

 

“Good. I hope you know just how fucking ridiculous you are.” You say and she sticks her tongue out at you. You hold her close, your lips on the back of her neck and her body warm and sweet. After what feels like a second, she speaks again. 

 

“Actually, I'm too awake for this. What do you say we wake up the whole neighborhood?” She turns to you, pressing her self into you and hooking her leg around your hip. Not that you particularly want to turn down her offer, but you tell her no. You can't afford another noise complaint and you've learned very quickly that Terezi is no quieter in bed than she is anywhere else. She groans and tells you that you're boring. You tell her to fuck off. She wraps her arms around your torso and pulls herself closer to you, planting a kiss on your collarbone.

 

“Can we at least shower together?” She asks, her milky eyes holding more emotion than glass should. You think about it, because you've never showered with a girl and you're tempted to try it. You think the water might block out her noises if you _do_ have sex and if you don't, than you still get to take a shower with Terezi Pyrope. You've also learned very quickly that she's twice as gorgeous without clothes than she is with them. You tell her yes and wait for her to climb out of bed. She takes longer than you, making sure to stretch her arms properly and to crack her knuckles at least twice. 

 

You don't end up having sex. The tiles are slippery, and you're sure that you'll fall and crack your head open if you try anything resembling sex. When you get out of the shower, she tackles you with playful kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and lips. You wrap yourselves in big, fluffy towels and she starts talking. She's always talking, you realize, but not like Kankri or your father. She doesn't talk just to hear her own voice, but to inform. She has more stories from her Freshman year of college than you have from your twenty-four years on this planet. She brings up old memories from way back when that fill you with an almost sickly nostalgia. You ask her once more how she lost her eyes. She gets quiet and her sharp grin dulls.

 

“That's a story for another day. I've got plenty more things to tell you before that.” You don't want to accept it. You want to fight her tooth and nail until she finally caves and tells you her story. You want her to tell it once, twice, three times until you can recite it yourself. And even though she's only been around for less time than you've been happy, you still consider yourself to be close enough to her to at least know what happened to her eyes.

 

“You know what? No, fuck you and your asinine mystery. Why the hell are you being so fucking secretive about this? _Oh God forbid I ever let Karkat know what the ever loving fuck happened to me. God forbid I ever explain why I completely dropped off the grid for six years and then just showed up unannounced without any fucking eyes._ ” You try your best to imitate her voice as sarcastically as you can. You're suddenly angry with her. You're angry at her for stealing your first kiss and running away with Vriska Serket a day later. You're angry at her for not telling you where she was going. You're angry at her for never calling you. You're angry at her for just showing up unannounced. Because now all the shock is gone. Now you're finally comfortable with the fact that she's here and you're terrified she's going to leave again. You're angry and confused and you just want to know what the _ever loving fuck_ happened to her eyes. You think she owes you that.

 

She takes a step closer to you, her expression hard and serious. She looks less sharp and more explosive. You've only ever seen  _this_ Terezi once before, and it sure as hell wasn't aimed at you. Your throat feels tight, but you stand ground, your own glare less explosive and more hard. She drops her towel, because it's difficult to be serious while wrapped in a big, fluffy towel. You lock eyes with her, gazing into empty glass that horrifies you more than any weapon could. 

 

“ _Do not,_ ” She starts, her voice stern, her words with extra emphasis. “Talk to me like that.” She spits it at you, waiting and listening for a reaction. A growl erupts deep in your throat, letting your own suppressed anger direct towards her. You're annoyed. You're frustrated. You're fucking furious.

 

“I will talk to you however the fuck I want.”

 

You don't know what you were expecting. You knew from the start that her reaction wouldn't be good. You supposed she would continue the fight, let it turn into a full-on shouting match and then eventually apologize to each other. You  _hadn't_ , however, expected a hard slap across the face. Not that you blame her, but it leaves you in a state of shock. You stumble. Her gaze softens as your hardens. You want to hit her back, you don't want to hit her back- you want the fight to continue, you want it to end. Your brain moves a thousand miles a second, but she looks mortified. 

 

“Shit,” She's so quiet that you wonder if it was even her voice. You don't think you've ever heard Terezi be quiet before. She takes a step closer to you, her gestures suddenly awkward and childish. “Sorry,” She mumbles, not sounding particularly sorry at all. You don't really care, you don't think, but you don't know what this means. You feel like you should care more. You feel as though if the roles had been reversed, the consequences would have been much worse. And you can see, even in the milky glass of her eyes, that she knows it too. So you stand still and silent, feeling awkward and shitty and as if you should be doing _something_ right now. She pulls you into an awkward hug, burring her face in your neck. It doesn't feel genuine. You don't think you care. 

 

You meet Kanaya at Starbucks an hour later. She arrives long enough before you do to order her coffee and find a seat. It's raining once again, and you feel comfortable. When you sit across from her and mutter an apology about being late, she greets you with a warm smile.

 

“Is it about a girl?” She teases, raising her eyebrows. She takes a sip of her coffee as you take a moment to answer.

 

“.....Kind of.” You mutter. She leans forward, looking intrigued. Her smile is teasing and no matter how hard you try, you can't force yourself to be annoyed with her.

 

“Is she pretty?” She asks. You can feel your cheeks heating up as you nod and Kanaya's teasing smile only grows.

 

“And this thing about this girl-” She stops and corrects herself. “This _pretty_ girl has something to do with sex, I presume?” You sigh, rubbing your eyelids and realizing that it's too early for this.

 

“Not... exactly.” You admit.

 

“I don't mean to pry-”

 

“You _always_ mean to pry.” You correct her and she rolls her eyes. The funny thing about Kanaya is that she can look elegant and polished no matter what she's doing, and you take a moment to appreciate how even her eye rolls are sophisticated. You envy her. 

 

“-but what does ' _not exactly_ ' mean?” You let out an exasperated sigh and she only leans further. 

 

“I think I like this girl.”

 

“You _like_ all the girls.”

 

“No, I like _looking_ at all the girls. This girl is different.” After a moment of silence, you realize that you hate this topic and you quickly change it. “Why haven't you quit your job yet?” It's Kanaya's turn to sigh.

 

“Because it's _money_ , Karkat. Neither Rose or myself have very much of it.” 

 

“You're too good for that place,” You remind her. “You could be an actress or a model, but instead you work at a nasty doughnut shop.” She smiles at you and then down at her cup.

 

“I do hope you're not flirting with me. Need I remind you that I'm happily in a lesbian relationship?” You scoff and tell her to shut the fuck up. She laughs.

 

Words can't describe how much you love Kanaya Maryam. She's a best friend, a big sister, and a mother all at once. She cherishes you and helps you up when your down. You don't think you can ever repay her for how much she's done for you. You both know that. And some how, she loves you back. Past all your whining and shouting and being over-all hateful and shitty, she still stays around you and tells you that everything is fine. You know you can tell her about Terezi, but you don't  _want_ to tell her about Terezi. 

 

You break away from her long enough to order your coffee, scolding and bitter, just like you. You don't really like it, but you feel like it suits you better than anything else. You've explained this to Kanaya before. She had laughed and told you that it's not wise to compare yourself to a beverage. You suppose she was right. She's usually right.

 

“Tell me about this girl that you _like._ ” She put emphasis on her words, leaving you more annoyed than you should be. 

 

“Fuck off.” You mutter. You're in no mood to talk about Terezi, even for Kanaya. She raises her eyebrow, eyeing you carefully.

 

“Hmm?” She says, teasing you. She knows _exactly_ what you said. You growl at her and she looks slightly offended. She's told you multiple times that growling only makes you seem like a feral animal, and you guess she's right about that too. But dammit! You're _frustrated_ and you have no better way of expressing you frustration without letting yourself growl at least a little. 

 

“I told you to fuck off!” You don't yell, but your voice raises and you put more force in your words than you had originally intended to. You feel a little bad.

 

She places her hand on top of yours, her gaze concerned and loving. You sigh, because you just  _can't_ stay mad at Kanaya and she knows. She takes a moment, letting you calm down before speaking again. 

 

“It's fine,” Her voice is slow and careful, as if she's worried you're going to cause a scene, which she probably is. You don't blame her for it. Her words are soothing and kind and they relax you. “You don't have to talk about it. I understand if it's a sensitive topic. Don't worry.” You'll never understand her. You'll never get how kind an patient she can be, you'll never understand her elegance or her motherly nature. You'll never understand Kanaya Maryam, but you sure as hell do love her.

 

You stay and talk about nothing for an hour or so, catching up on your lives. Terezi doesn't come up again, and you appreciate her understanding of your boundaries. She tells you, around nine in the morning, that she has work soon. When she gets up to leave, you hug her goodbye, squeezing tight enough to break her. She doesn't mind. She kisses you on the cheek and leaves you to your own demise, flashing a smile over her shoulder on her way out the door. You find yourself missing her as soon as it closes. You don't want to stay too long. The building is full of teenage girls on laptops and twenty year old boys in thick rimmed glasses and tight pants. You don't care for places like this. Rose waves hello to you from behind the counter. You wave back, wondering why she still works at a coffee shop when she could be writing. Kanaya had explained that her girlfriend had finished her first book and was currently working to get it published. You can admire the shit out of that. Rose had always been a far better writer than you.

 

You leave as soon as you can after finishing your coffee, wanting to get as far away from that godforsaken place as possible. You don't want to go home. You do want to go home. You don't want to talk to Terezi. You do want to talk to Terezi. You're fighting yourself and it feels shitty. You walk slowly, letting the rain wash you away. It's cold, but not windy and the droplets are comforting, in an odd way.

 

You don't even bother paying attention to where you are until you see your apartment complex. You're tempted to groan and pass it, wandering for hours before you face Terezi again. You quickly decide against it, knowing full well that the longer you stay out, the more likely you are to fight with her all over again. You pray that when you get in, she'll have completely forgotten this morning ever happened and will happily chat away about college and girls and any other stories she can think of that don't involve her eyes. The thought isn't as comforting as you're like it to be.

 

When you get inside, she's in your sitting area, curled up on the couch and running her fingers across a large, hard-cover book. She doesn't bother to say hello. You don't bother to interrupt her. When you put your keys down and attempt to go into your office, she stops you.

 

“You're brother called.” She informs, her voice too serious and too robotic for your liking. You wish she would at least scream at you. You groan. You have no intention on talking to Kankri, or really any living member of your family. You just want to grade papers and drink to your hearts content. It's not even ten in the morning, and you're already considering which of your hard liquors you're going to consume tonight. Terezi giggles at your sound of discontent and you scowl at her.

 

“What?” She asks, teasing and sarcastic as always. “You don't think he's an insufferable prick, do you?”

 

“I abso-fucking-lutely do. An insufferable prick who can't keep his goddamn mouth shut.” She lets out another bubble of laughter and you groan again. “What did you say to him?” Her grin grows wider and you wonder if you should be scared.

 

“I just told him to fuck himself with a pink dildo.” You can't tell if she's joking or not. You know for a fact she's said some rather lewd things to your brother in the past, but you can't imagine she would start a conversation with something so utterly rude. “Well, there's more to it.” She says after a moment, her grin only growing wider. You open your mouth to ask, but she's beats you to it. A loud answer for a silent question.

 

“Okay, so he recognized my voice immediately, which is admittedly a little creepy, but whatever. Anyway, I explained that you were out with Kanaya and that I was staying with you for a little while. He asked if we were sleeping together and I thought _'Well shit, if he's comfortable enough to ask than he's comfortable enough to get the truth._ ' Oh shit, was a wrong. I obviously told him yes and he basically called me a slut in his backwards way of pretending to be on my side, but really just insulting me. So I told him to go fuck himself with a giant pink dildo and that I'd do everything in my power to make sure you _don't_ call him back. Then I hung up.” You stare at her. You can't believe, you won't believe....

 

“ _Jesus Christ!_ ” You start, genuinely worried about the outcome of her shitty little outburst. “Okay, he's definitely going to tell dad. Oh my God, why the hell would you do that?” You try not to hyperventilate as you pace the room.

 

“You can't actually expect me to believe that you're scared of your father, right? You're twenty-four fucking years old and you're terrified of what your asinine brother _might_ bitch to your father about? That's so pathetic.” You want to laugh and yell at her at the same time. It's not funny. It's really fucking funny. 

 

“Shut the fuck up, he's horrifying!” You protest. You were never labeled a “good kid” when you were a child, but you tried your best not to be a trouble maker. When you couldn't manage to shut your mouth on multiple occasions, you got in more trouble than you could keep track of. Your father had always told you that your nasty attitude and irritable nature would get you in trouble and no matter how many times it did, you never learned your lesson. You still don't think you have. And even though you didn't particularly like the never ending trips to your principles office or the angry teachers, you could never hate them as much as when you got in trouble with your father. Terezi makes a point to laugh at you and you can feel your face heating up. 

 

“Just shut up, okay?” You scowl at her. She grins back at you. “You still owe me freaking morning butt sex.” She waggles her eyebrows and you think you turn bright red. You don't like talking about sexual endeavors. You don't like talking about affection out loud, which is something Terezi _clearly_ has absolutely no problems with. 

 

“First of all, I don't owe you shit. Secondly, I don't think I ever mentioned _anything_ about butt sex.” You feel your face flush. You seriously hate this. 

 

“Blah! You're no fun. Fine, at least get over here and make out with me a little. I've been craving a little something-something all morning and the shower didn't help at all.” 

 

“It was slippery!” You protest. She frowns at you. 

 

“Yeah, whatever. I'm starting to think you don't like sex with me anymore.” She fakes a pout and you drag your hand down your face, partly from annoyance and partly from embarrassment. 

 

“Of course-” You stop yourself and growl, the words incapable of leaving your mouth. _Of course I like having sex with you, Jesus Christ, who wouldn't?_  “Ugh, just come here.” You wrap an arm around her waist and pull her into a rough kiss. She scraps her teeth along your bottom lip and you open your mouth, letting her tongue slip past your lips. She sucks on your tongue and lightly nips it. The noise you make is somewhere between a purr and a growl. Your hands tighten around her waist and you press her body into yours. Her clothes are deliciously tight as always, clinging to her slim frame and extenuating her features. You want to tear them off. 

 

You stumble in a haze of kisses and touches and remove articles of clothing. You fall flat on your back on your couch with her on top of you. She attempts to kiss your lips but misses and hits your cheek instead. She's down to her underwear, where as you're left clad in your jeans. She nips at your neck. You wrap your arms around her waist and pull her closer. Her skin is cool and coverd in goose flesh. You give a pinch to her side and she yelps. It's probably the most adorable sound you've ever heard. You push yourself up to a sitting position, forcing her to follow. She straddles your lap and drapes her arms around your neck. 

 

Your hands slip up her sides, reaching just below her breasts. She rocks her hips onto yours, making you let out a small groan. You plant sloppy kisses along her neck, nipping at her skin and making her breathing heavy. You bring one hand down to her squeeze her thigh as the other gives gentle touches to her breast. She sighs and grabs the sides of your face, pulling your head up to smash your lips together. Everything about her is sharp and angular. You can feel her ribs and her thigh bones, her elbows digging into your shoulders and her sharp nose pressed to your cheek. Her knees squeeze your hips and her tongue runs along your bottom lip. You open yoru mouth and let your tongues slide together. Her lips taste like red candy and she smells like berries. You bring your hand to the front of her, palming her through the thin piece of underwear. She gasps and bites down on your lower lip harder than you think necessary. You make a sound of discomfort as she grinds her hips onto your hand. 

 

You're interrupted by a knock on your door. You tense and quickly extract your hand from her. She lets out a quiet groan.

 

“You should get that.” She tells you and you begin to protest. She cuts you off quickly with a peck to the lips. “Go answer the door, asshat.” 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd try a slightly different writing style and I really wanted to dive into their backgrounds. I'll get more detailed about it later, but there's no sex or other nsfw stuff in this chapter, mostly because they're kids and teenagers fucking kind of freaks me out.

**== > Be Karkat**

 

You're currently five years old and you think that this is the first time you've ever seen your father cry. You don't blame him. You would cry, too.

 

**== > Be Terezi**

 

You're currently nineteen years old and your girlfriend has just broken up with you in the most cruel way she could think of. You don't think you'll be retelling this story anytime soon.

 

**== > Be Kankri**

 

You're currently eleven years old and your little brother is in your arms. He isn't crying, like you had expected him to, but watching your father with wide eyes and nerves. You can feel him shake, his chubby, kindergarten body ready to fall apart, but no tears escape his eyes. You don't think you're crying either, which surprises you. You thought you would have been a blubbering mess by now, and yet your eyes are dry. You wonder if this is real. It doesn't feel real. You feel like you're watching your father through a TV screen. Your brother's chubby body doesn't feel like anything. The only thing you can feel is the numbness pulsing through your body and the only thought running through your head is a silent prayer;  _Dear Lord,_

 

_Please don't let this be real,_

 

_Please, please,_ please, _let it be a dream,_

 

_Please let my mother be alive._

 

**== > Be Karkat**

 

You're currently ten years old and you don't think your father has adjusted to life without her yet. You don't remember what it's like to live with her. You barly remember her face, and yet you're told everyday how much you loved her and how close the two of you were. You father still cries reguarly. You used to understand when you were five and six, but now you think he's pathetic. You can understand that losing someone can be hard, you lost her too, but can't bring yourself to be sympathetic about the crying. You don't think it's particularly manly or diginifed.

 

You've also been living with the barest of necessities since she passed. Apparently, as you're told almost hourly by both your brother and your father, she had brought in most of your family's income. You're father's been too emotional to get a job, so Kankri's had to do it while he goes to church to pray. Your brother is still a student, however, and he can only work part time at a minnimum wage job. He comes home every night too exahusted to so much as say one sentence. You want to help him, but you can't just yet.

 

You couldn't be more angry. You hate your father for being useless, you hate your brother for never being around, and you hate your mother for leaving you with them. You break things and talk back, thorwing massive temper tantrums and pushing people away. You're dragged to church every weekend, reguardless of your loud claims about how fake their “God” is. Neither your brother or your father want to hear it. Every time you sit in one of those shitty, uncomfortabel pews, you feel like bashing your head against the wall. You don't think you want to be alive anymore.

 

**== > Be Terezi**

 

You're fourteen years old and you don't think you've ever met someone this angry. He sits in the back of your English class, shouting swears and insulting people who ask what he deems “stupid questions.” He's grouchy and loud and looks too tired to be alive, much less awake. You don't think he even knows what the hell a hairbrush is. He constantly argues with your teacher, gets in trouble, talks back, yells some more, and leaves the room before he can even be managed to get kicked out. He's yet to show a single redeeming quality, but even so, you think you might want to be his friend.

 

“You smell like hate.” Is the first thing you ever say to him, and he flips his shit.

 

“Get the fuck away from me, you freak!” You shouts and you give him the biggest, shit-eating grin you can manage.

 

“Hate smells like cherries and vanillia, by the way. It's _especially_ strong on you. What's got your feathers all ruffled like that?” He huffs at you and attempts to move away from you, but you stop him. “I want you to be my partner.” You say, completely seriously. He laughs at you anyway. It's a cruel, bitter scoff that holds only contempt behind it. You glare at him.

 

“What the hell do you need a _partner_ for? Is your ass too stupid to do an assignment on your own?”

 

“Wow, way to not listen, asshat. Just about four seconds ago, our teacher told us to get in partners. I have no fucking clue what it's for, but I'm not going to disobey rules just because you're ass is too salty to bother working with anyone.” He glares at you and mutters under his breath in a language you don't understand. Your teacher comes over and asks if you're working together and you say yes before he can object. She then hands you each a work sheet and tells you to finish it by the end of class.

 

“Name?” You ask him.

 

“ _Perra,_ ” He mutters and you raise your brows at him. You actually recognize that word. You're annoyed because all you were trying to do was be nice to him.

 

“ _Listen_ Taco Bell, we're stuck together. I thought that maybe since you don't have any friends, I was doing you a fucking a favor, but it looks like you're perfectly okay with being alone and salty and bitter, so here my ass is stuck with you and you're bullshit language. Well, I don't give a flying fuck if you don't like me, but we need to get this _stupid fucking_ work sheet done, so suck it the fuck up and deal with me for thirty goddamn minuets, then you can go back to hating the entire English-speaking universe.” You kinda of feel bad for being a little racist, but you honestly can't give less of a shit about this kid or his feelings. He, however, looks like he's ready to yell until he's blue in the face.

 

“Ha!” He shouts, a sarcastic and humorless laugh. “Wow, fuck, keep the racism coming, please. I just _love_ to hear about how little my people and my culture mean to your priveledged, white ass you nasty fucking _puta_ _._ Taco Bell, huh? Well at least that shit has some fucking flavor! You're just a soggy piece of white bread with mayonaise. You're like every other priveledged white girl I've come across, slefish and self-centered. So come on, keep the insults coming. They doesn't mean jackshit to me because I know I'm better than you.” You clench your fists and take a deep breath.You don't want to yell anymore, you decide, because he's not worth it.

 

“Look, I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to be so lonely all the time, okay?” _I wasn't expecting you to be this insufferable_ you think, but you decide against saying it outloud. “So can you just tell me your name and we can finish this damn worksheet?” He huffs, his gaze hardened and angry. You didn't expect him to just accept you apology, anyway.

 

“Ugh, whatever. I can't get a bad grade in this class anyway. It's Karkat. Karkat Vantas.”

 

“I'm Terezi Pyrope. You smell more and more like hate the longer I stay around you.” He rolls his eyes and mumbles to himself, this time in English.

 

“I can't believe I'm stuck with you.” You force a smile and pretend you didn't hear him. He's just as difficult to work with as he is to talk to and you spend the next half hour shouting about what the right answer is and why the other is so stupidly wrong. At some point he growls, an honest-to-God _growl_ as if he's a ferral animal, which he probably is. When the bell rings, you wait for him to pack up before leaving your classroom. 

 

“What the actual fuck are you waiting for?” He asks and you shrug.

 

“Maybe I didn't want you to be the last person in the classroom.” You respond and he glowers at you.

 

“That's stupid. You're stupid.” You huff at him and ask him to at least try and be a little more pleasant. He scoffs and asks you why you're even bothering to spend time with him. You open your mouth to answer, but you can't manage to force any words out. Why _do_ you insist on hanging around him? He has absolutely no redeeming qualities about him and you really can't stand being around him anymore. And yet, he _facsinates_ you. You want to know more about him and his pure, red hate.

 

“We're friends now.” You tell him and he tries to protest, but you stop him. “We're friends and you're going to like it and you're going to like me.” And you turn on you're heels and walk away, leaving him alone in that classroom with all his hate and all his anger and all his red. You're too stubborn to give up, now. You're friends with Karkat Vantas and you absolutely _hate_ it. 

  
  


**== > Be Karkat**

 

Terezi. Terezi, stop. Don't fucking touch that. Step away from the Jesus statue. Yes, it is bullshit and no you can't touch it. Oh God.

 

Oh shit.

 

Stop.

 

TEREZI!

  
  


==> Be Terezi

  
  


Karkat is currently freaking the fuck out, as is usual for him. You suppose you didn't expect it to go well when you just showed up at his house unannounced and uninvited, but you know he would never invite you over on his own, nor would he accept an invitation from you. You had just found the most ridiculously corny movie you've ever heard of before you came over and had the impulse to share it with him. He refused to so much as know the title before he started yelling at you. 

 

You don't know why he's freaking the fuck out on you, anyway. All you had done was laugh at the fact that he has multiple paintings and figurines of Jesus or God or whoever the fuck in his home, because you had never pegged him for a particularly religious person. When you attempted to pick one up, he shouted at you to put it the fuck down and you had started laughing again.

 

“I never thought you would take this shit so seriously.” You say as he tries not a punch a hole in the plaster. He sighs and tells you that he doesn't. You're slightly confused.

 

“My dad and my brother seem to think that this'll....... they just really believe in this bullshit and if someone lays a goddamn finger on a _single one_ of their precious statues or paintings or some shit, I'll get in an assload of trouble.”

 

“Why do they take it so seriously?” You ask, gentely putting the little Jesus down.

 

“None of your fucking bussiness!” He snaps, clearly aggitated. You decide not to push the subject any further.

 

“Okay, well, believe it or not, I actually had a point to coming over. I found the worst thing ever and I thought you'd appreciate it's awfulness with me.” He sighs and tells you to get the fuck on with it. You throw him a toothy grin and show him the copy of the movie you had brought over. His eyes widen and he snatches it from your hands.

 

“No way,” He sounds astounded and looks up at you like you're his God. You laugh.

 

“I _know_. It looks so shitty, doesn't it?” His face twists in what you can only assume is mild disgust. You think it's directed at the movie at first, but then realize that _no_ , it's actually aimed toward _you_. 

 

“How could you possibly say that? Have you never seen the cinematic masterpiece that is _50 First Dates_!? This is possibly the most beautiful love story I've ever fucking seen and you _dare_ call it awful? This is some bullshit you're pulling, Pyrope. Some bull-fucking-shit. That's it, get the fuck out of my house. I don't think I can be friends with someone who doesn't appreciate the genius that is romantic comedy's.” You stare at him, face laced with disgust and hate and red and cherry and vanillia and gray. You stare at the colors of his emotions and stare at everything he's directed at you through his facial expressions. And you laugh. You laugh harder than you think you should because it's just so fucking _funny_. He starts yelling at you again not to laugh, but that only makes you laugh harder. 

 

“Oh my _God_ , you like rom-coms? _Holy fucking shit I can't breathe_.” You laugh until your ribs hurt and he tries to yell over your hysterics. It doens't work in the slightest. “You can keep it, if you want it. Assuming you don't already own four hundred copies of that shit. And I'll watch it with you if you want.”

 

“You'll just make fun of me.” He grumbles and you can't promise you won't.

 

“I totally and completely _will_ make fun of you, but only because you're so angry about it. How come I didn't know you like rom-coms?” 

 

“Well _obviously_ I can't just tell you about this stuff.” He grumbles and you're ready to torment him some more. 

 

“Stuff? As in there's more than just the Jesus explosion that is your house and your absolutely shitty taste in movies? What other embarrassing secrets are you hiding from me?”

 

**== > Be Karkat**

 

You're about to claim that there's nothing else you're hiding from her, when the very last embarrassing thing you've forgotten to mention comes stumbling through you're front door, barely taller than you but much more depressing. You don't remember the last time your brother's slept, what with college and a full time job to juggle, he's been ridiculously tired for the past three years. He stares at Terezi for a moment, looking slightly confused and slightly horrified.

 

“Hello.” He finally manages to say to her after too much silence. He then turns to you and starts his daily lecture. “I was unaware that you are friends with a girl and I had no idea she would be coming over. Please make sure to tell me when you have guests and please don't let her touch the statues.” You nod and he goes back to his room to most likely take a nap.

 

“He looked like death.” Terezi observes and you agree.

 

“Yeah,” You say and try to hold back a sigh. “lately, he's been feeling like death too.”

 

**== > Be Terezi**

 

Your name is Terezi Pyrope and you're eighteen years old. Today is the day before you leave for college with Vriska and you only have one more goodbye. It's currently two in the morning and you have no idea if Karkat's asleep or not, so you call him. His voice is groggy and disgruntled and you're sure you woke him up.

 

“Do you have any idea what motherufcking time it is?” He asks, his voice gruff an stratchy, most likely from all his yelling.

 

“Yeah, it's time for you to get the fuck up and meet me outside.” He huffs and tells you that he'll be out in ten minuets. You wait. He meets you outside with a minuet to spare, still in his pajamas and his hair squished to one side of his head. There are obvious purple bags under his eyes and he growls at you when you greet him with a smile.

 

“Jeez, who pissed in your cheerios?” You ask playfully and he growls again.

 

“I never fucking got them because it's _two in the goddamn morning_!” He shouts and you surpress a smile.

 

“Yeah, about that; I'm leaving tomorrow and I'm not coming back.” He stares at you for a moment, his scowl hardened and his gaze confused and angry.

 

“What the fuck do you _mean_ you're not coming back?” He asks, his voice less shouty and more hard. You bite your lip because he's honestly the last person you want to be angry right now. You don't know what he'll do with himself without you.

 

“I'm not coming back to Portland. Ever. I'm going to college in a different state, it doesn't matter where, and I don't play on ever coming back to all the rain and this city life bullshit. I'm going to be gone and I don't know if I'll ever see you again.” He stares at you, mouth agap. He glances down at his feet and then quickly back up at you. His teeth scrape across his bottom lip and you can't get over how adorable he is.

 

“So what does this mean?” You sigh.

 

“I don't know.”

 

“I-” He stops himself abrutly and you raise your brows at him. “I just really liked being your friend, okay?” He spits and you soften your gaze. And you then make a rash decision, one your girlfriend would never approve of. One you don't tell her about for another year. One you know you'll never regret. You kiss him. You kiss Karkat Vantas. It's a sweet, chaste peck on his lips and you love how chapped and warm and rough and cherry and red they are. He stares at you. You stare back at him. There's a moment of awkwardness that's broken when he pulls you into a big hug. You rest your head against his shoulder and her burries his face in your hair.

 

“I'm going to miss you so much.” He says and you take it to heart. Karkat isn't one for sentiment, after all. You pull him into another chaste kiss, just as red and sweet as he is and you think he might be blushing.

 

“I'm going to miss you, too. I really did like being your friend.” You say back and offer him a smile that he doesn't return. When you turn to go, he pulls you back into one last kiss, this one longer and sweeter. It's a brillient mix of red and teal and gray. It tastes like blueberries and cherries and vanillia, but so much sweeter. You can feel a jolt of electricity coursing through your body and running through your veins. When you pull away you feel hot and cold and you can taste the sweetness of red candy and the bitterness of Karkat. You say a final goodbye, awkward and sweet and uncomfortable and all too cute. When you drive off into the night, you can't help but cry.

 

**== > Be Karkat**

 

It's been one day since Terezi left. One day and you've already felt angry and grumpy and like you could strangle something. Today is also your suicide date. It was eight years ago that you set this day aside. You were only ten and at ten, you had decided to end your life. But now you don't think you want to. At least, not today.

 

You set the date back and wait another four months. You don't think you want to die, but you also don't think you want to be alive.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for this coming out a month and a half after I published the last chapter. All I can say is sorry. This chapter is NSFW sooooo yeah.

 

You've decided that you've had enough surprises this week for a life time. It took you a moment to wrestle your clothes back on and try and tame your hair, and in that time the knocking on your door only grew louder. You shout at whoever's on the other side to calm the fuck down. Terezi goes into the bedroom to redress herself.

  
You open the door as she's changing and come face to face with someone you were hoping you'd never see again. She's still taller than you , thin and lanky with bleach blonde hair. She's wearing too much blue eye shadow and her blue lipstick is nothing if not a statement. Her prosthetic arm is new to you, as well as her left eye, which happens to be made of glass. She grins at you and it doesn't feel friendly in the least.

 

“Where's Terezi?” She asks and you're in such a state of shock that you don't answer right away. She stares at you expectantly, which is making you more than a little uncomfortable.

 

“Excuse me?” She rolls her good eye at you and you stare back at her.

 

“I _know_ she's back in town and I _know_ she's staying with you. So where's Terezi?” You glare at her and huff.

 

“I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Serket.” You don't care what Vriska's intentions are, you know for a fact that Terezi doesn't want to see her. She blows a chunk of hair out of her face and crosses her arms over her chest.

 

“I don't know why you like lying to me so much, wetback, you fucking suck at it.” You glare at her. Vriska Serket is yet another racist white girl from high school that thought offensive racial slurs were absolutely _hilarious_. You grit your teeth and try your best not to literally rip her glass eye out of her head.

 

“Wetback! Wow! Isn't it just _so_ funny that I'm Mexican? Jesus shit, I've probably had to mow more lawns in one day than the Starbucks drinks you've choked down in your life time, you fucking pretentious white bitch.” She scoffs and turns away from you.

 

“Are going to tell me where Terezi is or are you going to continue stuffing your gullet with tacos?”

 

“Oh perfect, another racial stereotype! Just for that, I'm _never_ going to tell you were Terezi is. Please do everyone a favor and jump off a bridge.” You close the door quickly and in her face. You're still fuming when Terezi comes out of the bedroom, fully dressed.

 

“Fuck Vriska. Fuck her in the ass with Lucifer's STD-ridden dick.” Terezi's eyes widen and she grips your arm tight enough to cut off circulation.

 

“Vriska was here?” She asks, sounding horrified. You stare at her for a moment.

 

“You look like you've seen a ghost.” You comment and she digs her nails into your arm. “I know she's a bitch, but it's not like she's _scary._ ” Terezi tilts her head up at you, her grip on your arm loosening. She stares at you. _Really_ stares, and it's chilling. You know she can't see you, you know she doesn't even have her eyes anymore, and yet it feels as though she's staring into your soul. She's seriously starting to freak you out. “What happened to your eyes?” You ask one more time and she looks away from you.

 

“It's not important.” She says, but you don't necessarily agree. She's so terrified, so upset, so.... wait. You think you might get it.

 

“You were dating Vriska when you left.” You remember. “Did she have something to do with your eyes?” You know she did. You know for a fact she did. Terezi's small nod only confirms your suspicions. “And you did something to her arm and her left eye?” You can feel her shaking, literally _shivering_ out of what you can only assume is terror. You stare at her. She tilts her head down to her feet.

 

“Can you _please_ drop it!” She snaps at you and your gaze hardens. She tears herself away from you, warping her arms around her torso and cowering. She seems to be shrinking in her own skin and you think she looks pathetic. You've never perceived her to be weak or helpless and you've always admired her strength. You hate this side of her.

 

“Fuck you! Is it really so bad that I want to know what happened to you? Why can't you just tell me?” She kicks the wall behind her, the sound bouncing off every surface of your house. It makes you cringe.

 

“Why can't you take a hint?!” She shouts back, her face red and her fists now balled at her sides. “Why can't you tell that I _can't_ talk about it? Why are you so obsessed with me eyes?” You're fuming now. You take a step closer to her and she takes a step back, bumping into the plaster behind her. You corner her and slam your fist against the wall next to her head. She doesn't flinch or gasp, but locks eyes with you, pupils staring into glass. You hold the stare for a while, only hearing the sound of her heavy breathing and watching as the anger twists into her face.

 

“You are such a selfish bitch.” You watch her face contort with utter rage and disgust. She spits in your face and pushes your chest, making you stumble.

 

“Fuck you.” You can practically feel the hate laced in her words and you feel your fists balled at you sides. You take a deep breath in and wipe her spit from your skin. When you speak, your voice quivers.

 

“Leave.” You have to say it through clenched teeth because you fear that if you open your mouth enough, you're going to start screaming. You can feel your body shake with rage and your sure that your face is as red and blotchy as hers. Her face twists and her jaw quivers.

 

“Fine.” She spits, tearing herself away from the wall. “It's not like I wanted to be here anymore, anyway.” You hear her voice crack and you're sure she's on the brink of tears. Part of you thinks; _Good. Fuck her anyway._ But part of you feels bad. You didn't want to fight with her and you didn't want to make her cry. She pushes past you on her way out the door and you swear you can see tears streaking her cheeks.

 

You sit in silence for a little while, contemplating life and your place in the universe, and all it manages to do is make you feel worse. Time passes quickly, and sooner than you realize, it's noon and Kanaya is on her lunch break. You call her.

 

“What's the matter?” She asks when she picks up the phone. Your voice takes a moment to start working again.

 

“How do you know something's wrong?” You can hear the crack in your voice and it makes you cringe.

 

“You never call me at work. What's wrong?” You don't answer. You don't know how to explain to her what happened. She breaks the silence. “I'l be right over.” She hangs up before you can protest and tell her not to trouble herself. You don't want her missing work because you're too emotional.

 

There are fifteen long minuets of silence, of you just waiting around, before Kanaya shows. You can feel your eyes sting and you're disgusted with yourself. She lets herself in, probably knowing full well that you wouldn't answer the door. She sits on the floor in front of you, resting a hand against your cheek. Her eyes are filled with concern. You lean your cheek against her hand, closing your eyes and letting her comfort you in anyway she can.

 

“Would you like to talk about it?”

 

“No.”

 

“Would you like a hug?”

 

You pull her into you, squeezing her tight and burying your face in her shoulder. She rubs circles in your back and places a kiss on the top of your head. When you pull away, she seats herself next to you, her back against the wall and her hand placed on top of yours.

 

“Let's watch a movie.” She suggests and you manage a small smile.

 

“Only if I get to pick it.” She groans and rolls her eyes.

 

“You have the absolute worst taste in films. No, we're going to watch something of _my_ choice, if you don't mind.”

 

“Ugh, fine. As long as it's not some shitty silent film about clothes or whatever the fuck you're into.” You huff and she lets out a small bubble of laughter.

 

“No, I don't care for silent films, thank you.”

 

An hour and a half later, after finishing two bowls of popcorn and getting emotionally invested in the characters, you would have never guessed you would enjoy a Marvel movie so much. You had never been a fan or superheros or their shitty movies before, but some how this particular movie managed to change your mind.

 

“I swear to God, if that fucking tree dies I'm going to literally throw this empty bowl at the motherfucking TV.”

 

….

 

“What the fuck was that ' _We are Groot_ ' bullshit? That's not a fucking way to die. Jesus, look at that damn raccoon, look at how fucking pathetic he is. This is all the damn tree's fault. I fucking trusted him and then he goes and gets destroyed on us. This is bullshit, Kanaya, bull-fucking-shit.” Kanaya shushes you for the second time in the past five minuets. You huff and continue to watch in silence for a little while long.

 

“Oh, yeah, _sure_! Of course the energy from the infinity stone can be channeled through their bodies by them just holding hands. Yep, sure, of course. I believe it. You know what? Fuck that racoon. I don't by that an animal can handle anything that fucking infinity stone has to offer. Fuck that raccoon.”

 

“ _Karkat!”_ Kanaya scolds and you huff at her. 

 

“ _Kanaya!”_ You mock, make her glare at you. Despite your complaining, you actually do find yourself enjoying the rest of the movie. By the end credits, which for whatever reason Kanaya is making you sit through, you think that maybe you'd be willing to watch other Marvel movies, as long as they have a similar sense of humor. 

 

“Remind me why the fuck we're watching the credits.” You ask and she just smiles at you. “Fine, whatever, don't tell me. Fuck you too.” You grumble and she manages a small giggle. 

 

* * *

 

“Really? That's it? You made me sit through the credits for that? Who the fuck even is that duck asshole?” She's about to answer when he phone starts buzzing. She excuses herself to answer it, after seeing that it's her boss. After a few minuets, she tells you that she has to go back to work. She kisses your cheek before she leaves and you're left to sit alone in your apartment, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain and wishing Terezi would come back. You want to apologize to her, knowing full well that you over reacted and your spat could have been easily avoided. 

 

Before you realize it, it's dinner time. You're not sure you have the energy to eat anything, but you can feel your stomach growling. You don't bother feeding yourself this time and go to bed, even though it's only seven o'clock on a Saturday. 

 

When you wake up the next morning, you feel empty. Your own hunger seems to be weighing you down, even though your stomach feels lighter than ever. You feel like you can't move. Or maybe you don't want to move. You want to call Terezi, but you know she won't answer. You want to find her, but as far as you're concerned, she wants nothing to do with you. So you wait, laying in bed all day and trying to work up the strength to feed and clothe yourself. It's not until midnight when you're shaken awake that you're given the smallest bit of hope. 

 

“You smell like shit, take a fucking shower.” Terezi sneers and you try your best to glare at her, but you can't manage it right now. You feel happy, because you didn't know she was coming back. You sit up, only to find that she's straddling your waist. 

 

“Where the hell have you been?” You ask and she scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. 

 

“Out.” She says and you're getting annoyed again. 

 

“You were 'out' for two days. Where did you sleep? You don't have money or a job, there's no way in hell you could afford a hotel.”   


“That's why I'm here, dipshit, I still need a place to sleep.” You glare at her, ready to chew her out for being shitty all over again, but you don't have the energy to fight with her tonight. 

 

“Fine, whatever, just let me sleep.” You're about to lay back down, when she stops you. Her lips smash into yours, her teeth scraping your bottom lip and her hands resting on your shoulders. You don't know whether to kiss back or to push her off of you. Her lips are soft and her body is warm. You loosely wrap your arms around her waist and let her kiss you, putting no effort into being affectionate back. You wait to see what happens. 

 

She slides her tongue over your bottom lip and you open your mouth, letting your tongues slide together. She tastes like bubblegum lip gloss and smells like vanilla perfume. You pull her closer to you, finally deciding that sex is the next best thing to talking. You roll your hips to meet hers and she kisses you with more ferocity. You tear yourself away from her and plant sloppy kisses to her neck. She tangles her fingers into your hair and tugs, causing a sharp pain in your scalp. You scrape your teeth across her neck and she gives a slight moan, grinding her hips against yours. 

 

It doesn't take long before the both of you are undressed as you stumble in a haze of lust and hate and affection. You enter her in a swift motion, putting all your frustration and rage behind your thrusts. She cries out and you go faster, hurting her with every motion. Her nails bite at your back as her teeth sink into your shoulder. Your grip on her hips is so tight that you think you might be leaving bruises. Her screams are music to you and she tells you to go harder. You don't want her to be able to walk properly for a week. 

 

She wraps her legs around your waist and pulls herself into you, rolling her hips in a vain attempt to meet yours. She runs her fingers through your hair, her sweat slicked body pressed to yours. You bite her neck and she yelps. And suddenly, the realization of what's happening hits you. Terezi left. She was gone for two fucking days and the only reason she's back is because she needs a place to sleep. She's mad at you, and yet here you are. And you think to yourself, for the first time in the week she's been in town, that this isn't a romantic relationship to her. It's not even friends with benefits. She's using you as her fuck buddy. That's all you are to her. And maybe she had feelings for you six years ago, but they're long gone by now. You're angry. You can feel the blood boiling rage course through your veins and you don't know if you'll be able to control yourself enough to keep from hurting her. Part of you hopes she'll be bleeding by the time you're done with her. 

 

You pull her into you while similtaniously thrusting forward. She screams, digging her nails into your back and burying her face into your shoulder. You feel her spasm and clench as she cries out your name. You don't feel prideful, you feel hurt and angry. You finish shortly after her and after your high dies down and you can hear her heavy breathing, you don't feel as tired as you should. As a matter of fact, you don't feel tired at all. There's adrenaline coursing through you and you want more, so much more. The sounds of her screams are orgasmic and you could go on like this forever. 

 

But you look down at her, face flushed and body fatigued and you don't think you can keep doing this to her. So you make the decision to let her rest. That's probably what's best for both of you, anyway. 

 


End file.
